


Devouring Time

by redletter_reaper



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ciel will be of age, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02, Post-Series, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 06:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2181807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redletter_reaper/pseuds/redletter_reaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I suppose what I’m getting at is that you’re no longer bound to me. I release you from the contract.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devouring Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Thank you for taking the time to read this. This is my first story published on here so any feedback is welcome as long as it is constructive and helpful. Before we begin, I would just like to clear up that I do not support sexual interaction between adults and minors, and that Ciel will be well over the legal age limit before anything happens. This pairing seems to be pretty controversial when it comes to that sort of thing. Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* * *

  
_Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws,_   
_And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;_   
_Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s jaws,_   
_And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood;_   
_Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,_   
_And do whate’er thou wilt, swift-footed Time,_   
_To the wide world and all her fading sweets;_   
_But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:_   
_O, carve not with thy hours my love’s fair brow,_   
_Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;_   
_Him in thy course untainted do allow_   
_For beauty’s pattern to succeeding men._   
_Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,_   
_My love shall in my verse ever live young._

_\- William Shakespeare, Sonnet 19_

 

The whole ordeal began not with a cry of distress or a demand of attention, but with a question of whether or not demons have feelings.

Ciel Phantomhive, a boy-recently-turned-demon of seventeen years, had turned about in his chair so he may better watch the raindrops throw themselves at the glass window of his study. His question made the butler currently dusting the bookshelves near the doorway, also a demon, stop in a state of puzzlement and cock his head in his direction.

“Forgive me, my lord but—what?”

Ciel sighed but didn't tear his gaze from the window.

“I said: Do demons have feelings? Obviously you feel things like hot and cold, but, emotions on the other hand—Do we feel them?”

The young lord had been in a state of almost skin-numbing blankness for the past week or so, unsure of where his life would go after the Trancy incident and his recent change of—species? He didn’t know, and that merely added onto the ever growing blanket of fog that warped and shadowed his usual clear conscience and decisive nature. It was pathetic, really.

Sebastian, the aforementioned butler, had laid down the feather duster by now and made his way to just a few feet before the desk where his charge sat pondering. He was at a loss for words at the question-- something that rarely happened – but cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak anyways.

“Emotion, my lord, is human at its most basic nature, and, seeing as you are no longer human—“ He stopped and caught himself. “We can feel anger and indignance and the like but—“

“Love. Sadness. Loss. Humiliation, Sebastian.” He stated sharply, cutting the butler off.

“We feel only the most selfish of emotions; the emotions that benefit our ego and ourselves alone. Anything else is a waste of time and energy. If I may, why do you ask?”

Ciel thought for a moment and only then spared a glance to the carpet. “No reason. However, there is another thing I wanted to speak with you about.”

Sebastian stepped closer and kept his eyes trained on the back of his master’s head. “Yes?”

“I believe it won’t come as a surprise to you when I say that you won’t be receiving my soul. Not in this state; not unless I die, which can no longer happen.” The boy stopped and righted himself in the chair to face the butler in front of him. “I suppose what I’m getting at is that you’re no longer bound to me. I release you from the contract.”

The sound of rain filled the room as Sebastian stood there in a stunned silence, claret eyes fixed on nothing but Ciel’s gaunt and sober expression. The young Phantomhive flicked his eyes up to the butler and held him there, the contractual seal pulsing and flickering like a dying ember.

Sebastian would have been a liar had he said he didn’t feel an overwhelming sense of elation and liberation at that moment, but he kept it buried beneath his stoic façade. He tore his eyes from Ciel’s and nodded once before bowing and leaving the room.

Ciel stared down at the desk for a second, or maybe an hour—he didn’t know-- before slowly turning back around to watch the rain.


End file.
